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THE 



LAW AND METHOD 



SPIRIT-CULTURE; 



AN INTERPRETATION OF 



A. BRONSON ALCOTT'S 

IDEA AND PRACTICE AT THE MASONIC TEMPLE, BOSTON. 



By CHARLES LANE. 




?!$«; "tfj^c^^- 



^ BOSTON: 
JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 

LONDON: 
J.GREEN, NEWGATE STREET. 

M DCCC XLIII. 



THE 



LAW Ax\D METHOD 



SPIRIT-CULTURE; 



AN INTERPRETATION" OF 



A. BRONSON ALCOTT'S 



IDEA AND PRACTICE AT THE MASOXIC TEMPLE, BOSTON. 




" Man's noblest offennj to Man and to Dirinilv is an Inspired Child.' 



REPRINTED FROM THE DIAL NUMBER XII., APRIL, ]S43. 



5" BOSTON : 




JAMES M UN ROE AND COMPANY 

LONDON: 
J.GREEN, NEWGATE STREET. 



M DCCC ILIII. 






THURSTON AND TORRT, PRINTERS, 

18 Devonshire Street. 



SPIEIT-CULTUllE.* 



When criticism best attains its end, it is an adjunct to 
authorship of no trifling pertinency. The true author, — 
the really original writer, — the first discoverer, — essen- 
tially stands above his age. His value to the world con- 
sists in his superiority to it. By as much as he more nobly 
speaks out of the new, is he the instrument for the reani- 
mation and advancement of the old. To the same extent 
also is he liable to be misunderstood, misrepresented, slight- 
ed, or rejected. 

At this juncture the interpreter's function legitimately 
commences. It is the true critic's endeavor to bridge the 
waters which separate the prophet from the people, to 
compass the distance which divides the understanding in 
the auditor from the intuition in the utterer. The inspired 
oracle never indulges in a vain expression. 

All the sayings of Genius are oracular ; all the actions 
of Originality are inspired. The destiny of the genuinely 
inspired soul is always to be doubted, or despised, or per- 
secuted in its own day and nation. Not born for years or 
localities only, but for all times and places, it must await 
as wide a welcome. We see that this skepticism, or un- 
friendliness, is necessarily manifested by the very law of 

* Conversations with Children on tlie Gospels; conducted and edited 
by A. Bronson Alcott. 2 vols. Boston : James Munroe & Co. 1836-7. 

Record of a Scliool ; Exemplifying the General Principles of Spiritual 
Culture, pp. 208. Boston : James Munroe & Co. 1835. Second Edi- 
tion, 1836. 

Spiritual Culture; or Thoughts for the Consideration of Parents and 
Teachers. Boston ; J. Dovve. 1841. 



4 Spirit- Culture. 

originality itself; and just in a degree coequal to the ex- 
tent or depth of the originality. The greatest, the divinest 
genius is persecuted to death, even unto ignominious death ; 
a moderate degree of inspiration is merely hunted through 
the world ; a lighter share of originality is allowed to waste 
itself in neglected poverty and soul-chilling solitude. For 
it is not, we surmise, alioays true that the measure of the 
world's acceptance of genius is the index to the profundity 
of that generic love. Had it been so, the world ere now 
would have been in a more loveful position than self-con- 
fessedly it is. Loveful utterances in the deepest tone, 
loveful actions in the gentlest manner, have been spoken 
and enacted in the world's theatre, and the records of them 
still remain, kindly appealing to humanity for a response. 
Yet it comes not. Or, at the utmost, as in the mimic the- 
atre, the spectators vehemently applaud each virtuous rep- 
resentation as it passes before their eyes, but as instantly 
forget it. Influences pass over humanity as the wind over 
the young trees ; but the evanescent air is not the abiding 
sap. Manifestations of genius have not generally induced 
men to seek a closer union with the genetic power. We 
lack even imitative amendment. 

Scarcely, therefore, can it be granted that the want of 
success, which so frequently characterizes the career of 
^N y genius, is attributable either to any deficiency of love or 
/J^ ^ want of exponential ability on its side. Something, nay 

much, depends on the construction of the receptive vessel. 
The finest wine must be inevitably spilt, if poured upon a 
solid marble sphere ; not even nectar itself could be re- 
tained in a seive ; and let us recollect that genius is ever 
too ready to pour forth its ofTerings, to consider critically 
the state or nature of the receiving mind. The mind sup- 
posed to be recipient will be found not seldom to be re- 
pellant, and even when frankly disposed to receive, often 
finds the task too difficult at once to comprehend that 
which emanates from the progressed being. The sun stead- 
ily shines on, though by its beams the swamp exhales 
miasma as the peach deliciously ripens. 

Undoubtedly the self-complacent auditor may construct 
a fensive axiom, or what is familiarly designated a truism, 
and pronounce that ?/ genius had love e;iowg7i, it never 
could appeal to us in vain ; with love enough, the most 



Inspiration. 5 

strong-hearted must be moved. This is of course a tena- 
ble position. With two such excellent diplomatic " peace- 
making" words in one sentence as "if" and "enough," 
no doubt can be raised against the veracity of the aphor- 
ism. But in our estimation that code of morals does not 
rank very high, which would establish a divine origin by 
proof drawn from the results of the action. It is needful 
to act, to act morally, genetically, generatively, before results 
can be, and all the results can never be known to the indi- 
vidual. Confirmation may possibly, in some points, be gath- 
ered from observance of consequences, but it is rare that 
anything beyond matter for useful and modificative reflection 
can be gleaned from that field. 

No ; it is sadly, sorrowfully true, that there are rocks so 
adamantine, brutfes so untameable, that not even Or[)heus 
himself, in his most celestial mood, can subdue them by the 
softest notes from his enchanting lyre. Our reproaches, 
therefore, shall not fall upon the love-inspired teacher because 
the taught are not more highly adtempered than we find 
them. Indeed, we will reproach none, not even ourselves ; 
for the interpreter, albeit his position is more temporary 
and local, has his proper tinie and place. 

There is a converse notion, however, rather too com- 
monly adopted by active minds, wishful enough of good 
in their respective ways, but not yet sufficiently stable to 
be replenished with the needful talent ; and our duty leads 
us to declare its idiotism. The bustling interloper, the 
mechanical rhymester, or the verbal handicraftsman, finding 
no reception in the world corresponding to his self-appro- 
bative desires, is wont to assume the position of neglected 
or persecuted genius, because men of genius have, as we 
also affirm, time out of mind, been public victims. A 
playwriglit is not a Shakspeare, merely because in common 
with the gifted bard he knows " a little Latin, and less 
Greek." A religious zealot, even respectable as he may 
be in morals, and we say it with genuine, heartfelt respect 
for all zeal, has not always the inspired right to assume the 
crown of martyrdom, merely because he is opposed in the 
world. Not all are Christ's who fall under man's disappro- 
bation. Oddity is not a sure certificate of worth, though 
the worthy must of course be singular where ills abound. 
The unauthorized authors, the uninspired teachers, are in 



6 Spirit- Culture. 

fact themselves the persecutors ; and to their ears let the 
truth be whispered, that while the false prophet endeavors 
to raise a public clamor concerning his supposed oppres- 
sions, true genius silently suffers. 

When with honesty, integrity, and clearness, the critical 
interpreter's work is performed, the public are not a little 
assisted to a just appreciation of generic ideas of a really 
novel character, that is to say, coming out of the new 
spirit. In every department of literature and art, there is 
much debris to be turned over to discover the solitary jew- 
el ; much dusty winnowing is needful for the separation of 
the true germinative grains. No extent of labor is however 
too great, if the above named conditions are complied with. 

These observations appear to be called for, as introduc- 
tory and explanatory of our present purpose. In some 
degree appropriate to any mental production, they are pe- 
culiarly applicable to the case before us. The fate of na- 
tions, as of individuals, is ever to look abroad for that 
which they might find at home. Articles of food, dress, 
ornament ; new cloth, new patterns, new ideas, are to be 
imported by ship, instead of being wrought from our native 
soil or soul. Tliat, which is brought from a distance by 
great labor, is, for no better reason, highly esteemed, while 
the spontaneous home product is unused. By the same 
law, the native prophet is unhonored ; the domestic author 
is neglected. 

Goethe, in his father land, after many industrious years 
of exposition, earns a moderate respect, while in England 
his mystic profundity is appreciated, and in America he is 
placed on the pinnacle of renown. 

Carlyle, in his native England coldly and slowly admit- 
ted to the ranks of genius, in America is kindly regarded 
as one of the brightest stars in the literary horizon. 

And, not to mention others, Alcott, almost utterly neg- 
lected by contemporaries, must seek his truer appreciation 
beyond the great waters ; and in tlie quietest nook in Old 
England behold the first substantial admission of his claim 
to be considered the exponent of a divinely inspired idea. 
New England, failing in honor to her children, and having 
no newer and more youthful country to accept and reflect 
their merits, may receive the award of the old land. 

The first really spontaneous, vital, and actual welcome. 



Practice. 7 

which Bronson Alcott's mission has enjoyed in its full 
meaning and intent, appears to have been in the bosoms 
of those friends, who estabHshed the School called after his 
name at Ham in the county of Surrey, a few miles only 
from the huge metropolis of England. At Ham, " umbra- 
geous Ham," as the poets truly designate it, which lies 
between the heights of classic Richmond with its extensive 
stately park, and the gentle silvery Thames, these sincere 
projectors carried out a living example of Alcott's idea of 
human culture, in some practical particulars exceeding the 
experience of the original, but in intrinsic merit confessedly 
falling short of those permanent moral and intellectual re- 
sults, which singularize this recorded effort at the Boston 
Masonic Temple. This choice of a beautiful locality we 
mention, because it may be received as an emblem of the 
fidelity and unmercenary purpose of these earnest promo- 
ters of human welfare. But the heart to appreciate, the 
head to perceive the means, and the hands to execute a 
new and noble sentiment are not commonly united in one 
individual. There is, moreover, that useful quality of per- 
severance not always present, that day by day, hour by 
hour steadiness and care, meeting each event as it occurs, 
without which no abiding work of art can be produced. 
Heartfelt admiration is too ready to conclude that the 
highly finished statue, whose beauty is perceived at a glance, 
was as momentarily produced. So smoothly do the 
thoughts and versification of tite poet glkle on through his 
argument, that the encharmed reader questions not that it 
was as briefly written as it is read. It is so easy, who 
could not do it ? This is the perfection of executive art. 
The pencils, the colors, the easel are removed. The 
blurred manuscripts, over which the author toiled so many 
days and nights, in polishing the Carrara marble of his 
verse into smooth turns ^nd agreeable attitudes, are with- 
drawn from sight, and the pleasing result unclouded (re- 
mains. This is the difference between genius and the 
generator ; between God and man. The idea is unques- 
tionably impregnated by the divine mind on the human 
soul at a flash ; at an instant of time whose duration is too 
short to be capable of measurement ; and it may therefore 
be more truly said to be conceived in eternity than in 
time. But tire outworking of the idea is a temporal work ; 



8 Spirit- Culture. 

and assiduity is constantly an attribute in true genius. 
The seed, buried in the dark earth, germinates, under the 
favorable conditions of spring, at some inappreciable point in 
time. Of the radiant sun at noon, while we say it 
is, it is not. Tiius of every deific manifestation. But 
to man is awarded another course. Through the law of 
industry he is to elaborate those divinely generated con- 
ceptions, to whose inbirth time is not attributable. 

The God-born idea is not an impulsion, but an inspira- 
tion ; not a personal pleasure, but a univeral happiness. 
It is not a fluctuative influence, as is frequently fancied, 
which comes sometimes and then departs. It is not a 
momentary stimulus, which urges us this morning to write 
a book, to build a church, or to visit the sick ; and this 
afternoon leaves us tired or disgusted with the effort. 
Quite the contrary. It is a permanent, abiding, substantial 
pressure, which allows not the youthful artist to dissipate 
the holy mornings of spring in dreams of deeds he never 
will realize, but continually energizes his soul to action. 
Impulse is more dangerous than steady inanition. Dull 
unpretension never will mislead ; but the impulsive and 
influential, the sometimes good, the wavering, are on all 
occasions, both to themselves and their susceptible neigh- 
bors, sources of diappointment and unhappiness. 

Cordial therefore as was the joy with which the idea of 
a deep and true spirit-culture was hailed on this occasion, 
the satisfactory results were not throughout obtained, in 
default of efficient human instruments. * Those who re- 



* The following letter from the late Mr. Greaves to Mr. Alcott 
confirms o\ir remarks, and well deserves insertion in this place. 

40 Burton Street, Burton Crescent, ) 
London, IGlh September, 1837. 5 
Dear Sir, 

Believing the Spirit has so far established its nature in you, 
as to make you willingly to co-operate with itself in Love-oper- 
ations, I am induced, without apology, to address you as a friend 
and companion in the hidden path of Love's most powerful rev- 
elations. " Tiie Record of a School" having fallen into my 
hands, through Miss Harriet Martineau, I have perused it with 
deep interest ; and the object of my present address to you, (oc- 
casioned by this work,) is to obtain a more intimate acquaint- 
ance with one, in our Sister Land, who is so divinely and uni- 



Practice. 9 

ceived most truly were personally too aged and too unexe- 
culive ; and the appointed executive, though occasionally 
enraptured with the thought, was too desultory and impul- 
sive to realize so grand a scheme. But even with thi 



o 



IS 



versally developed. Permit me, therefore, dear Sir, in simple 
affection, to put a few questions to you, which, if answered, will 
give me possession of that information respecting you and your 
work, which I think will be useful to the present and. to future 
generations of men. Also a mutual service may be rendered to 
ourselves, by assisting to evolve our own being more completely ; 
thereby making us more eflicient instruments for Love's use, in 
carrying forward the work which it has begun within us. The 
Unity himself must have his divine purposes to accomplish in 
and by us, or he would not have prepared us as far as he has. 
I am, therefore, willing to withhold nothing, but to receive and 
transmit all he is pleased to make me be, and thus, at length, to 
become an harmonious being. This he can readily work, in the 
accomplishment of his primitive purposes. Should you think 
that a personal intercourse of a few weeks would facilitate the 
universal work, I would willingly undertake the voyage to 
America for that purpose. There is so decided and general a 
similarity in the sentiments and natures addressed in the account 
of your teaching, that a contact of spirits so alike developed 
would, no doubt, prove productive of still further development. 
Your school appears to work deeper than any we have in Eng- 
land ; and its inner essential character interests me. If an 
American Bookseller will send over any of your books to his 
correspondent here, I shall be happy to receive and pay for 
them. 

In the year 1817, some strong interior visitations came 
over me, which withdrew me from the world, in a considerable 
degree, and I was enabled to yield myself up to Love's own 
manner of acting, regardless of all consequences. Soon after 
this time, I met with an account of the Spirit's work in and by 
the late venerable Pestalozzi,- which so interested me, that I pro- 
ceeded at once to visit him in Switzerland ; and remained with 
him, in holy fellowship, four years. After that I was working, 
with considerable success, amongst the various students in that 
country, when the prejudices of the self-made wise and powerful 
men became jealous of my influence, and I was advised to re- 
turn to England, which I did; and have been working, in 
various ways of usefulness ever since, from the deep centre, to 
the circumference ; and am now engaged in writing my con- 
scientious experiences, as well as I can represent them in words, 
and in teaching all such as come within my sphere of action. 
2 ^ 



10 Spirit- Culture. 

large drawback there yet remained so striking and promi- 
nent an approach to good men's hopes, that, notwithstand- 
ing the supposition of introducing impossible novelties, the 
number of individuals moved by the example is sufficient 

Receptive beings, however, have as yet been but limited, ajjd 
those, who permanently retain, have been still less ; yet, at pre- 
sent, there appears a greater degree of awakening to the central 
love-sensibility, than before. I see many more symptoms of the 
harvest time approaching in this country. There is, at present, 
an obvious appearance of the Love-seed beginning to germi- 
nate. 

Such of the following questions, as you may think calculated 
to throw any light upon what you are doing, I shall be obliged 
if you will answer, with any other information you may feel dis- 
posed to supply, for the universal good. 

1. Do your instructions entirely follow the universal ideas ; 
and are they connected with any peculiar sect of religion? 
2 Are you, yourself, satisfied with the results that appear? 

3. Have you had many difficulties to overcome ? 

4. How early do you begin to act upon children? 

5. Is a day school or a boarding school best to carry out your 
views ? 

6. Have you found any one able to assist you ? 

7. Can mutual instruction avail anything? 

8. Does the moral influence decidedly dominate over the in- 
tellectual in the children ? 

9. Are the Parents willing to let you have the children? 

10. What religious sect works most favorably with you? 

11. What sect works most against you? 

12. Do the children that have come from other schools show any 
preference to yours? 

13. To what age would you keep the children ? 

14. Do you think that your mode of instruction could be 
easily nationalized ? 

15. Is your mode of teaching compared with other modes, or 
is it estimated with relation to the end sought ? 

16. Do the children soon begin to perceive the power of the 
end that you have led them to ? 

17. Are inner tranquillity and inner thoughtfulness results of 
the primary purpose ? 

18. Do you find that the exercise of the inferior faculties neu- 
tralizes what you have done? 

19. Can you make all branches of instruction relate to the 
primary purpose? 

20. Do the Girls make greater progress under you than the 
Boys, and are they more grateful for the results ? 



Practice. 11 

to encourage any, who are so doubtful as to require the 
confirniatiou of associate approbation. Enough of good 
was done lo prove the path to the best. The gates of 
Eden were temptingly in view, though the ultimate abode 
was not entered. 

21. How do you rank music, singing, and dancing, as means? 

22. Has sound a more universal influence than sight ? 

23. Are the poor chidren more easily acted upon than the 
rich ? 

24. Do the children feel at a loss, when they are removed to 
another school ? 

25. Can you act with more effect upon strange children than 
upon your own ? 

26. Is the spirit of inquiry considerably deepened, and does it 
take an eternal, instead of a temporal direction ? 

27. How many scholars would you undertake to instruct in the 
manner you are acting? 

28. Do you consider the mode in which you have fitted up your 
school room as very beneficial ? 

29. Is it used for ordinary purposes, or only for instruction ? 
The child has two orders of faculties, which are to be educa- 
ted, essential and semiessential, or in other words, roots and 
branches. 

Radical faculties belong to the interior world, and the branch- 
ial to the exterior. 

To jiroduce a central effect on the child, the radical faculties 
must be first developed ; to represent this effect, the branchial 
faculties must be developed. 

The radical faculties belong entirely to Love, the branchial to 
knowledge and industry. 

It is imperative upon us to follow the determination of the 
radical faculties, and to modify the branchial always in obedience 
to the radical. 

It is the child, or the Love-Spirit in the child, that we must 
obey, and not suffer the Parents or any one else to divert us 
from it. 

Goodls'not to be determined by man's wishes, but Good must 
originate and determine the wish. 

The Preceptor must watch attentively for every new exhibi- 
tion of the child's radical faculties, and obey them as divine laws. 

We must in every movement consider that it is the Infinite 
perfecting the finite. 

Ail that is unnecessary in the external must be kept from the 
child. 

The Preceptor's duty is, as far as possible, to remove every 
hinderance out of the child's way. 



12 Spirit-Culture. 

Not many years have revolved since scholastic modes 
had sunk to so low and miserable a point, that almost 
siniujtaneoiisly a Pestalozzi, a Neff, and an Oljerlin, were 
enabled to shed around them no small lustre, to acquire in 



The closer he keeps the child to the Spirit, the less it will 
want of us, or any one else. 

The child has an inward, sacred, and unchangeable nature ; 
which nature is the Temple ol' Love. Tiiis nature only de- 
mands what it will give, if properly attented to, viz. Unfettered 
Liberty. 

The Love Germs can alone germinate with Love. Light and 
Life are but conditions of Love. Divine capacities are made by 
Love alone. 

Love education is primarily a passive one ; and, secondarily, 
an active one. To educate the radical faculties is altogether a 
new idea with Teachers at present. 

The parental end must be made much more prominent than 
it has been. 

The conceptive powers want much more purification than the 
perceptive, and it is only as we purify the conceptive that we shall 
get the perceptive clear. 

It is the essential conceptive powers that tinge all the conse- 
quences of the exterior conceptive powers. 

We have double conceptions, and double perceptions; we are 
throughout double beings; and claim the universal morality, as 
well as the personal. 

We must now educate the universal moral faculties, as before 
we have only educated the personal moral fiiculties. 

It is in the universal moral faculties that the laws reside; un- 
til these laws are developed, we remain lawless beings. 

The personal moral faculties cannot stand without the aid of 
the universal moral faculties, any niore than the branches can 
grow without the roots. 

Education, to be decidedly religious, should reach man's uni- 
versal faculties, those faculties which contain the laws that 
connect man with his maker. 

These reflections seem to me to be worthy of consideration. 
Should any of them strike you as worth while to make an ob- 
servation upon, I shall be happy to hear it. Suggestions are 
always valuable, as they offer to the mind the liberty of free 
activity. The work we are engaged in is too extensive and 
important, to lose any opportunity of gaining information. 

The earlier I receive your reply, the better. 
I am, dear Sir, yours, faithfully. 

J. P. Greaves. 



Development. 1 3 

their respective circles a more than transient fame, by their 
practical attempt to raise our public disciplines one or 
two degrees out of the wretched depths into which they 
had fallen. Few perhaps of their ideas were new. Expo- 
sitions or dreams of them existed in books ; indistinctly in 
the records of the ancient philosophical fatliers ; pro- 
phetically in the hopes of modern moralists. But the pe- 
culiar claims of these men consisted in their bringing to 
practice, in the most humble and familiar manner, modes 
of treating human nature, which from long obsoleteness 
had grown out of all memory. Youth of all ages, condi- 
tions, and pursuits had so long been given over to harsh 
feelings and the deadly doctrine of acquisitive knowledge, 
that the combined ideas of a loveful teacher, and the living 
source of truth in the taught, came upon the world as a 
wholly original discovery, involving the projector in all the 
diflicullies and opposition with which genius is generally 
encountered. The world's gratitude has not, however, 
withheld the just tribute to these faithful innovators. 
But while personally to such men, and universally to their 
practical ideas, they now render due homage, the progres- 
sive minds of this age will not fail to perceive, tiiat this 
movement was but preparative to a deeper and more im- 
portant change. It was not a trifling task to persuade the 
pedant to lock up the ferule in his desk, and appeal for 
power to the love in his own bosom. This was a strange 
mode, he thought, of quelling a juvenile rebellion. Nor 
was it to him less heretical to think of folding his printed 
book for a moment, and essaying the experiment of de- 
veloping yVw/i the pupils a clearer exposition of the law of 
number, or form, or of thought, than he could ever trans- 
fuse into them by means of the best book ever penned. 
The experiment, however, was tried, and wherever it was 
faithfully attempted success was certain. 

And sufficient good has appeared to all unbiassed observ- 
ers, to shake to its foundation the old and oppressive dog- 
matic discipline. Even in the most conservalorial recesses 
coercion and dictation begin to abate somewhat of their 
fury, making way for the developing principle, which must 
in turn yield to that inmost treatment now presented. The 
method of Instruction when conjoined with the doctrine, that 
the human mind is comparable to a fair blank sheet of 
paper, had arrived at its lowest degradation. The notion, 



1 4 Spirit- Culture. 

that the human soul is but a capacity, more or less exten- 
sive for tlie reception of impressions to be made upon it by 
surrounding objects tinougli the external senses, seems to 
be the darkest, the most deathlike predicament in which 
humanity could be entrammelled. When Bacon, with 
manly and original vigor, encountered the school verbiage, 
into which discipline had fallen from those reahties which 
the Aristotelian forms once represented, it is quite certain he 
could not have anticipated a mistake on the part of his pre- 
tended followers, equal to that into which the school men 
had erred. They had indeed forgotten the superior half, the 
dimidium scientifE of their great and brilliant prototype. 

The worse result of this error is its very general diffu- 
sion. Tiie notion and the language of it pervades all 
ranks, much to the unmanning of humanity. Even now 
it is maintained that external objects strike the mind. 
When driven from this absurdity by the evident truth that 
the mind must be the actor, the first mover, and act through 
the senses upon the object ; it is re-urged that the object 
acts upon the retina of the eye, making an impression there, 
and, through it, upon the mind. If this be followed up by 
showing that the object never can be the subject or actor; 
that the objective case is not the nominative case ; the 
charge comes forth of verbal and unworthy distinctions with 
which the practical man will not trouble himself. We mayj 
appeal to the current language employed in every-day life,! 
through tlie mouth and through the pen, for proof to whatj 
an extent this depressing idea prevails of man being pas-* 
sive to surrounding objects. It has in fact grown up into 
a sort of philosophy. Tlie potency, the creative influence 
of circumstances is constantly pleaded, as the cause and 
excuse for a state of existence we are too idle or too in- 
ditierent to amend. No scholastic jargon, or idols of the 
mind, as Bacon called them, which his Novum Organum 
dethroned, could have exceeded in direful force the pre-, 
valence of this circumstantial philosophy. 

Sincerity is the youthful attribute. Deference to things 
which exist, to persons placed in authority over youth, 
either by natural laws or social custom, is much more com- 
mon than is supposed. When they discover at every turn 
their native vivacity repressed, and their spontaneity 
checked, by the most solemn assurances and uniform prac- 



Inpresence. 15 

tice which could possibly be realized for a false theory, it 
would be wonderful indeed if they skepticized upon the 
subject. This being also the tenet of our most progressive 
outward philosophers, it has the charm of apparent advance- 
ment which youth demands. It thus has an interior as 
well as an exterior popularity, through which few minds, it 
seems, have power enough to break away into higher, 
clearer regions. 

To borrow an illustration from the binder, the business of 
instruction is similar to that of gilding and lettering the 
backs of the books ; putting ornaments on the edges and 
outsides of the leaves ; while the process of development 
treats humanity as something more than a mere capacity to 
receive. It treats each individual as a book containing sen- 
timents of its eternal author ; not indeed born with ex- 
pressions of ideas in forms, such as have been before 
'employed ; but a book which, when opened, when permit- 
ted to open, in daily intercourse with outward things, leaf 
by leaf, will unfold itself in modes and expressions ever 
new and beautiful. By treating the mind as a subservient 
passive blank, we go far to make it so. Dark prophecies 
are not unfrequently realized by the malicious efforts of the 
prognosticator. We must have faith for better success. 
Not only is the human soul comparable to a book in re- 
spect to the fact, that there is a progressive opening for an 
Inner idea, occultly present previous to the development, 
but also in this, that the human soul is capable of a con- 
scious union with the thread that passes through its inmost 
being, and binds all its leaves together. There is this 
intensive education, so generally remitted to the later inci- 
dents in human life, as well as the extensive and discursive 
education, which school development comprehends. In 
but one man does it seem to have been the pervading, the 
life-thought, the ever-present idea. Granting that Pesta- 
lozzi had an intuition of this inmost fact, and that much 
of his own proceeding had in view its realization in his 
pupils ; yet from its obscurity in him, or the unprepared- 
ness of the public mind, it was not declared in that lucid 
manner in which it now is announced. His interrogative 
mode too was so much more appropriate to the unfolding 
of a quick intellect than of a gentle heart, that we can 
scarcely attribute to him the design of directing the soul 



1 6 Spirit- Culture . 

to that one needful knowledge without which man is not 
man, life is not life. 

Each of these principles has a mode. Instruction de- 
livers its dogmas, Education interrogates, Spirit-culture is 
by conversation ; conversation not in its narrow sense of 
idle talk, but in deep communion by tongue, pen, action, 
companionship, and every modification of living behavior, 
including that of its apparent opposite, even silence itself. 
Instruction may be Pythagorean ; Education, Socratic ; but 
Spirit-culture is Christ-like. Being the latter, it is also the 
two former, as far as they are consistent with pure intellec- 
tual affirmations, and spontaneous love. 

Conversation, communion, connexion of heart with 
heart, the laying open of unsophisticated mind to unso- 
phisticated mind, under the ever prevailing conviction 6f 
the Spirit's omnipresence, are the modes and the principle 
of Alcott's annunciation to mankind. Throughout and 
throughout he would have the One Omnipresent recognized 
in actual operations, even as in the title to the chapters in 
his published work. Without embarrassing the subject 
with the question, whether all improvement is bounded by 
this discovery, and whether so great a consummation re- 
mained for so humble an individual, one placed just under 
our own eyes, whom it is no rarity to see and hear, whom 
we are in daily familiarity with, we may be allowed to re- 
mark, that we think the world justly owes itself an inquiry 
and an effort to realize this idea to the fullest. On all 
sides we find the admission, that something further is to 
come. We have not arrived at the happy point. Our 
young men, saturated with antique lore in theological sem- 
inaries, are scarcely to be enumerated amongst the whole- 
some specimens of human intelligence or religious love. 
Our young women, though free from the toils of Latin and 
Greek, and given over a little to the idea of development, 
are yet far from the millennial state, which a parent desires, 
or a husband would cherish. The best practice of the 
best theories, hitherto promulgated, leaves room enough for 
the invitation of some further proposition ; and such we 
have now presented to us. 

True conversation seems not yet to be understood. The 
value of it therefore cannot be duly prized. Its holy free- 
dom, equidistant from hot licentiousness on the one hand, 



Conversation. 17 

and cold formality on the other, presents constantly to the 
living generous mind a sphere for inquiry and expression, 
boundless as the soul itself. This true communioji permits 
all proper modes to be employed, without a rigid or exclu- 
sive adherence to any particular one. There may be a 
time for Quaker silence, for Episcopalian monotony, or for 
Unitarian rhetoric. Instruction requires its pupils to be 
passive to the lecture or the strictly defined task. Devel- 
opment calls for answers limited to its initiatory questions ; 
while Conversation goes beyond these two, not by annihi- 
lating them, not by disusing or condemning them, but by 
mingling them, as occasion may demand, in that process 
which equally permits the pupil to interrogate or to make 
a statement of his own flowing thought. It opens every 
channel to the inexhaustible sluices of the mind. It de- 
mands no dogged, slavish obedience, it imposes no depress- 
ing formula, it weighs not down the being with an iron 
discipline, that when removed is found to be the spring to 
riot and debauchery ; but leaving to the artless spontaneity 
of pure infancy the free expression of itself, attains the 
highest end in education, so far as human means can serve 
it. This expression of itself, or, in preferable terms, the 
free, full, and natural expression of the Spirit through hu- 
manity, is the high destiny in our earthly existence. More 
than this cannot be promised or praised of any piece of 
human organization. The tendency in all our systems to 
become stereotype moulds, for the fixing of the new gener- 
ation according to the pattern of the old, is still an argu- 
ment for the trial of new plans. But every system was 
doubtless good in its own day, and in its original author's 
iiands. Grant " us youth " the same privilege ungrudg- 
ingly, which was conceded or assumed by our ancestors. 
The virtuous institutions of to-day will become corrupt 
within ten short years. The reformer himself needs to be 
reformed in his ideas, as soon as he has obtained his ideal 
reform. We must not freeze the gushing stream so near 
its source, but let it sparkle in the summer sun. Let us 
have the last deep thought fre^h from the infant soul, and 
if it be inconsistent with its previous utterance, so let it 
be. Is it true, is it honest, is it faithful, are questions 
which the teacher may ask ; not is it consistent with my 
views or system. Consistency is an attribute of the rusty 
3 



1 8 Sj)irit- Culture. 

weather-vane, and is not to enforce a compliance by youth- 
ful joy to hoary sadness. 

In every such attempt as this to better humanity, the cry 
of alarm is raised, that our sons and daughters may indeed 
become poetic, but they will stand forth in the world use- 
less and neglected. And in addition to this apprehension, 
the description we have submitted may have excited the 
idea, that a state of complete lawlessness must ensue, that 
humanity would again become wild, a cunning wilderness 
throughout, in which selfishness alone could reign. 

Parents perhaps must be permitted without contradiction 
to pronounce upon the degree of selfishness, which entered 
into the procreation of their offspring- This spontaneous 
kind of education certainly gives a greater degree of liber- 
ty to the being, such as he is, than any other. But it does 
so in a godlike faith, in something more than faith, in a 
religious certainty in the teacher's own bosom, that if he 
himself be freed, if he be true, honest, and faithful, he 
shall not in vain appeal to the free-making spirit in the 
little one. And, whether as parent or friend, none other 
than the free should venture upon the tender and hallowed 
ground of Spirit. No one can in fact enter these holy 
precincts, except so far as he is in real liberty. The 
rudeness of anger, the vileness of selfishness, tiie haste of 
doctrinism, close the young bud of as the human soul, the 
hand of man causes the lender leaf of the sensitive plant 
to be curled up. Its native cry is, touch not me. Tiie 
soul is sealed against such violent assaults, and not always 
are the natural parents fitted to become the best spirit- 
ual ones. On the contrary, the probability is that the 
quality or organ, too prominent in the parent, shall be that 
one which is uppermost in the offspring also; so that when 
they be^in to be active to each other nothing but a perpetu- 
al clashing must ensue. And this must continue until we 
have a diviner generation. 

Numerous are the beautiful sentiments which we have 
heard in behalf of the unbroken connexion between 
mother and child. True in a practical sense they would 
undoubtedly be, as in idea they are beautiful, were but 
the mothers as practically true and beautiful. Until then 
we are bound to admit that a temporary sphere, superior to 
the parental home, may sometimes be discovered. There 



Public Judgment. 19 

are minds born with an intuition for this art, tliis highest 
of the fine arts, and of these, Pestalozzi and Alcott are 
distinguished masters. In the former there was a strong 
desire to throw the activity upon the child ; in the latter 
there is more success. There is sometimes an urgency in 
the developing system, especially on the part of those who 
adopt it imitalively, which in the deeper mode is resolved 
into quiet patience. The thought may be enshrined in the 
soul, the feeling may to-day be most intense, but we must 
wait for the season of expression. 

To aim at brilliant immediate results, is as fatal as to 
enforce apparent consistency. Humanity needs above all 
things a larger faith. It is the heavenly privilege to hope 
against rational expectation. In childhood we shall find 
the largest confession of faith. This we should encourage 
to the freest expression without' and to the fondest cher- 
ishing within. We encourage it most, we cherish infant 
purity in every aspect, in the highest degree, when we 
neither check it nor hasten it. When Rousseau said, "Ed- 
ucation is that art in which we must lose time in order to 
gain it," he might, had he been faithful himself to the 
Spirit, have given a deeper turn to his thought, and have 
announced, that education is a process in which we may 
use time in order to gain eternity. A higher reality than 
time, or brilliant show, is to be gained in education, which 
by Alcott is designated Spirit-culture. 

We foresee several objections which will be raised 
against these principles ; or in preferable language we 
may say, we perceive several classes of objectors as likely 
to arise. In the estimation of one class there will be too 
much abstraction ; that is to say, too frequent an allusion 
from facts in the outward world to those in the inner world. 
In the opinion of another class, there will not be religion 
enough ; that is to say, there will not be allusion enough, 
direct and unallegorized, to the interior life. Some parents 
will conclude there is too strong a tendency to definition, 
while others determine that every subject is treated in a 
vague manner, and that their children on quitting such a 
school would in themselves be vain and pedantic, and for 
themselves as well as their neighbors, ignorant and useless 
beings. It will be said, that while they may possibly pick 



20 Spirit- Culture. 

up a few words, they will be singularly destitute of know- 
ledge. 

Such contradictory estimates must be allowed in part to 
neutralize each other. Parents, as well as observers gene- 
rally, can only judge from their own position, and that un- 
fortunately is not the position of childhood. At least the 
parent might grant as much liberty of thought and action 
to one, who devotes sincerely and purely an entire life to 
the education of children, as he does to the baker, who 
provides the bread. The teacher must daily endure more 
dictation than the physician, or even the shoemaker, has 
inflicted on him during his whole career. But this extreme 
parental criticism arises from the most sacred feelings. 
Undoubtedly. So also do the improved modes of the 
teacher. If they do not, the parent should not confide 
his offspring to him. 

The ends proposed in education are so very various, that 
it is scarcely possible to address all minds at once. Al- 
though, in general terms, the ultimate or final end is the 
happiness of their children, yet the intermediate or educa- 
tive ends are almost as various as the parents. Nay, even 
the two parents in one family are not always agreed upon 
the subject. If the desire be to see the boy qualified to be- 
come a man of business, every moment devoted to art or 
moral culture will be deemed so much time and thought 
surreptitiously abstracted from the true end. If the girl 
be designed for an artist, the pencil must be perpetually in 
hand. But what has the true teacher to do with these 
projects ? They have little concern with the soul's legiti- 
mate wants. Thoughtless or selfish as may have been the 
child's generation, there is yet a power in it which shall 
better instruct the teacher what is the peculiar end in its 
earthly existence, than the ambitious aspiration in the pa- 
rents. This is a point to be determined between the teach- 
er and child, rather than between the parent and teacher. 

The objections of the exoteric mind we would meet by 
observing, that too much haste is shown in drawing con- 
clusions. The schoolmaster is not so fortunate as the 
shoemaker, for his work is never finished, and he is sure to 
be checked, criticised, and stopped in tRe process. A vast 
proficiency may appear in a short time by a display of the 
imitative powers. But the demand in the child's nature is to 



Parental Feeling. 21 

have its creative powers developed. A clever trading 
teacher can send home the boy's book filled with writing, 
drawing, and arithmetic of an apparently excellent char- 
acter ; while the child shall really know very little of the 
laws of form or number. On the other hand, the pupil, in 
whom the powers or laws shall really be better developed, 
may be yet unable to make so good-looking an outward 
display. No trifling or ordinary observing powers are 
competent to forming a judgment on the state of a 
young person's soul, or on the processes which are going 
on within it. The examination of a school must be car- 
ried deeper than counting the scholars, measuring the 
length of the desks, or examining the ventilation. The 
abiding interest manifested by many talented parents in 
their frequent attendance at Mr. Alcott's school, as record- 
ed in these excellent works, is a cheering proof that this 
valuable process was not altogether unappreciated, and is 
also a specimen of what school examination should be. It 
is a trite remark, that no one really knows what tfie action 
" to learn" is, until he begins to teach. At least we might, 
then, require of parents that they should put themselves 
into a like position, as nearly as possible, with their chil- 
dren, before they pronounce on the merits of the school. 
Children and parents should, in fact, be taught together ; 
and it is only in default of willingness on the part of the 
latter to learn that which can only be learnt in the deepest 
life-experiences, that renders other aid necessary. Talent 
is not the deficiency, for the needful talent would arise in 
the process, but the unselfish will is not yet present. And 
it does seem hardly suitable that self-will, though enshrined 
in the parental bosom, should interpose between the soul 
which is given up to human good and its outworking. For 
such is the condition of the teacher, or he is an impostor, 
and is not for one moment to be trusted with babies and 
their hornbook. If the parent does not choose this posi- 
tion, rather, then, permit the child to determine the value 
of the process and its end. 

Most thinkers have now arrived at the perception, that 
there is a double process in teaching ; namely, a develop- 
ing action, which serves to bring out in order and harmo- 
ny all the innate powers, capacities, and organs; and an 
instructive operation, which lays gradually before the child, 



22 Spirit- Culture. 

in a manner suited to the several stages in its development, 
the accumulated records of past events. When the first 
mentioned of these ideas was in recent times anew pro- 
posed to the world, the outcry was, " Oh, you will make 
the children wiser than their fathers." But these grey- 
beard sneers prevailed not. Silence ensued, if not con- 
viction. Tolerance, if not liberty, was won for the human 
race. But dumb toleration probably yet hides remains 
of the old feeling. When spirit-cullure is spoken of in 
some circles, there are still discoverable symptoms of con- 
demnation, as of a needless novelty, a vain refinement. 
" Why pester the children continually, and on every sub- 
ject, with this allusion to Spirit ? I do not very well un- 
derstand what you would be at ; but if I can see any 
meaning at all in it, we hear enough about it from the 
minister on the seventh day, and I would prefer you should 
send home my children sharper and well informed in arith- 
metic, geography, and the like, to leading them into this 
abtruse matter. I have got on very well without it, and 
so can they. I like all sorts of improvement very well, 
but in this, I think, you go needlessly beyond the mark." 
Such is the sentiment which, in colloquial language like 
this, we shall not travel far without hearing. Neither shall 
we have occasion to travel far for the true solution. It is 
within us. 

Before the soul, or human spirit, can be satisfied, can 
be made happy, it must know whereof itself is. The 
knowledge of earth, and plants, and animals, and arts, and 
trade, fills not the soul with satisfying supplies. With 
matter and material things there is no possibility of our 
failing to become acquainted ; but even the harmonious 
relationships of these remain an inexplicable oracle with- 
out a spirit-intellection. There are these two sides to 
mental education, the side of Spirit, and the side of Na- 
ture. The former is internal to the soul, the latter exter- 
nal. Nature is not necessarily material, for there are the 
natural affections and feelings, the loves and hopes in man, 
which are not material ; neither are they Spirit ; they are 
natural. In order to the attainment of true and perfect 
humanity, in order to tend that way, it is needful that ed- 
ucation should take the side of Spirit. Would the chymist 
know the secret in his experiment, he must study the law 



Omnipresence of Spirit. 23 

or element in his solvent, and not seek it in the things 
solved, or in the crucible which contains it. The mental 
crucible is the object of study ; the solvent is the soul ; 
the power in the solvent is the Spirit. No satisfactory so- 
lution of any material, or mental phenomena, can be at- 
tained without the conscious inpresence of Spirit. True, 
the Spirit is always present ; the omnipresent is always 
omnipresent ; and the teacher can make neither more nor 
less of that eternal fact. Such is the reply of the outward 
mind ; on which it may be submitted, that it does make 
an immense difference. It makes all possible difference for 
human good or ill, for misery or happiness, whether the 
human soul is or is not, as continually, perpetually, and in 
all things as consciously sensible of the Spirit-presence, as 
in reality and in fact it is present. It is a sad mistake to 
determine that tliis vital fact can be overknown. Super- 
abundantly spoken of, no doubt, it sometimes may be, but 
even that can hardly occur. For if the soul be not yet 
born into that inmost life, constant allusion by act, by 
bearing, by word, may surely be persevered in ; and if the 
word, the idea, the fact be true to any auditor, no deterio- 
ration can occur by direct and frequent allusion. Famil- 
iarity with truth engenders no contempt. This course is 
no more than always takes place in every sphere in life. 
The language is echo to the being. The legislator in his 
hall, the merchant on the exchange, has his allusion to his 
supposed good, and, inferior as it is, no contempt or ridi- 
cule is by that means brought upon it. Artistic phraseolo- 
gy is strange to the trader's ears, because he lives not the 
artistic life, not because the phraseology is improper. 
Spirit language is strange to men, not on account of its 
irrelevancy to existence, but because they live a material 
life. It were better assuredly that men should be elevated 
to a higher life, than that language, and modes of treat- 
ing the human soul, and aspirations for spirit-culture should 
descend to them ! 

In the ordinary interpretation of the term, we do not 
pretend to review these works. If we have in any degree 
opened in the reader's mind an idea of that spirit and sys- 
tem, which these books, like all others, can but faintly re- 
cord, we have attained a satisfactory result. We are glad 
to find the sentiments, which the best men ui all ages of 



24 Spirit- Culture. 

the world have held, confirmed in modern times by so pure 
a life, so intelligent an understanding, and so eloquent a 
speech as Mr. Alcott's. Instead of reproaching him for 
the introduction of doctrines too subtle for healthy appre- 
ciation by the young mind, the world might be reproached 
for so long withholding the rights of infancy from its neg- 
lected cravings. 

The following beautiful passages are the best exposition 
we can ofl:er of Mr. Alcott's intuition on the three grand 
points of Conversation, the Teacher, and Spirit-culture ; 
the means, the actor, and the end. 

"In conversation all the instincts and faculties of our being 
are touched. They find full and fair scope. It tempts forth all 
the powers. Man faces his fellow man. He holds a living in- 
tercourse. He feels the quickening life and light. The social 
affections are addressed ; and these bring all the faculties in 
train. Speech comes unbidden. Nature lends her images. 
Imagination sends abroad her winged words. We see thought 
as it springs from the soul, and in the very process of growth 
and utterance. Reason plays under the mellow light of fancy. 
The Genius of the Soul is waked, and eloquence sits on her 
tuneful lip. Wisdom finds an organ worthy her serene utteran- 
ces. Ideas stand in beauty and majesty before the soul. 

" And Genius has ever sought this organ of utterance. It has 
given us full testimony in its favor. Socrates — a name that 
Christians can see coupled with that of their Divine Sage — 
descanted thus on the profound themes in which he delighted. 
The market-place ; the workshop ; the public streets; were his 
favorite haunts of instruction. And the divine Plato has ad- 
ded his testimony, also, in those enduring works, wherein he 
sought to embalm for posterity, both the wisdom of his master 
and the genius that was his own. Rich text-books these for the 
study of philosophic genius ; next in finish and beauty to the 
specimens of Jiesus as recorded by John. 

" It is by such organs that Human Nature is to be unfolded in- 
to fulness. Yet for this, teachers must be men inspired with 
great and living Ideas. Such alone can pierce the customs and 
conventions that obscure the Soul's vision, and release her from 
the slavery of the corporeal life. And such are ever sent at the 
call of Humanity. Some God, instinct with the Idea that is to 
regenerate his age, appears in his time, as a flaming Herald, and 
sends abroad the Idea, which it is the mission of the age to organ- 
ize in institutions, and quicken into manners. Such mould 
the Genius of the time. They revive in Humanity the lost Idea 
of its destiny, and reveal its fearful endowments. They vindi- 



The Teacher. 25 

cate the divinity of man's nature, and foreshadow on the coming 
Time the conquests that await it. An Age pre-exists in them ; 
and History is but the manifestation and issue of their Wisdom 
and Will. They are the Prophets of the Future. 

"At this day, men need some revelation of Genius, to arouse 
them to a sense of their nature; for the Divine Idea of a Man 
seems to have died out of our consciousness. Encumbered by 
the gluts of the appetites, sunk in the corporeal senses, men 
know not the divine life that stirs within them, yet hidden and 
enchained. They do not revere their own being. And when 
the phenomenon of Genius appears, they marvel at its advent. 
Some Nature struggling with vicissitude tempts forth the Idea 
of Spirit from within, and unlooses the Promethean God to roam 
free over the earth. He possesses his Idea and brings it as a 
blessed gift to his race. With awe-struck visage, the tribes of 
semi-unfolded beings survey it from below, deeming it a partial 
or preternatural gift of the Divinity, into whose life and being 
they are forbidden, by a decree of the Eternal, from entering; 
whose jaws they must obey, yet cannot apprehend. They dream 
not, that this phenomenon is but the complement of their com- 
mon nature ; and that in this admiration and obedience, which 
they proffer, is both the promise and the pledge of the same 
powers in themselves ; that this is but their fellow-creature in 
the flesh. And the mystery remains sealed till it is seen, that 
this is but the unfolding of Being in its fulness ; working free of 
every incumbrance, by possessing itself. 

" For Genius is but the free and harmonious play of all the 
faculties of a human being. It is a Man possessing his Idea and 
working with it. It is the Whole Man — the central Will — 
working worthily, subordinating all else to itself; and reaching 
its end by the simplest and readiest means. It is Being rising 
superior to things and events, and transfiguring these into the 
Image of its own Spiritual Ideal. It is the Spirit working in its 
own way, through its own organs and instruments, and on its 
own materials. It is the Inspiration of all the faculties of a Man 
by a life conformed to his Idea. It is not indebted to others for 
its manifestation. It draws its life from within. It is self-sub- 
sistent. ' It feeds on Holiness; lives in the open vision of Truth ; 
enrobes itself in the liglit of Beauty; and bathes its powers in 
the fount of Temperance. It aspires after the Perfect. It loves 
Freedom. It dwells in Unity. All men have it, yet it does not 
appear in all men. It is obscured by ignorance ; quenched by 
evil; discipline does not reach it ; nor opportunity cherish it. 
Yet there it is — an original, indestructible element of every 
spirit; and sooner or later, in this corporeal, or in the spir- 
itual era — at some period of the Soul's development — it shall 
be tempted forth, and assert its claims in the life of the Spirit 
4 



2 6 Spirit- Culture. 

It is the province of education to wake it, and disclipine it into 
the perfection which is its end, and for which it ever thirsts. 
Yet Genius alone can wake it. Genius alone inspire it. It 
comes not at the incantation of mere talent. It respects itself. 
It is strange to all save its kind. It shrinks from vulgar gaze, 
and lives in its own world. None but the eye of Genius can dis- 
cern it, and it obeys the call of none else." 

" To work worthily, man must aspire worthily. His theory 
of human attainment must be lofty. It must ever be lifting him 
above the low plain of custom and convention, in which the sen- 
ses confine him, into the high mount of vision, and of renovating 
ideas. To a divine nature, the sun ever rises over the moun- 
tains of hope, and brings promises on its wings ; nor does he 
linger around the dark and depressing valley of distrust and of 
fear. The magnificent bow of promise ever gilds his purpose, 
and he pursues his way steadily, and in faith to the end. For 
Faith is the soul of all improvement. It is the Will of an Idea. 
It is an Idea seeking to embody and reproduce itself. It is the 
All-Proceeding Word going forth, as in the beginning of things, 
to incarnate itself, and become flesh and blood to the senses. 
Without this faith an Idea works no good. It is this which 
animates and quickens it into life. And this must come from 
living men. 

" And such Faith is the possession of all who apprehend 
Ideas. And Genius alone can inspire. To nurse the young 
spirit as it puts forth its pinions in the fair and hopeful morning 
of life, it must be placed under the kindly and sympathizing 
agency of Genius — heaven-inspired and hallowed — or there is 
no certainty that its aspirations will not die away in the routine 
of formal tuition, or spend themselves in the animal propensities 
that coexist with it. Teachers must be men of genius. They 
must be inspired. The Divine Idea of a Man must have 
been unfolded from their being, and be a living presence. Phi- 
losophers, and Sages, and Seers — the only real men — must 
come, as of old, to the holy vocation of unfolding humanity. 
Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, and the Diviner Jesus, must 
be raised up to us, to breathe their wisdom and will into the 
genius of our era, to recast our institutions, remould our 
manners, and regenerate our men. Philosophy and Religion, 
descending from the regions of cloudy speculation, must thus 
become denizens of our common earth, known among us as 
friends, and uttering their saving truths through the mouths of 
our little ones. Thus shall our being be unfolded. Thus the 
Idea of a man be reinstated in our consciousness. And thus 
shall Man grow up, as the tree of the primeval woods, luxuriant, 
vigorous — armed at all points, to brave the winds and the storms 



Inspired Teacher. 21 

of the finite and the mutable — bearing his Fruit in due 
season. 

" To fulfil its end, Instruction must be an Inspiration. The 
true Teacher must inspire in order to unfold. He must know 
that instruction is something more than mere impression on the 
understanding. He must feel it to be a kindling influence ; that, 
in himself alone, is the quickening, informing energy ; that the 
life and growth of his charge pre-exist in him. He is to hallow 
and refine as he tempts forth the soul. He is to inform the un- 
derstanding ; by chastening the appetites, allaying the passions, 
softening the affections, vivifying the imagination, illuminating 
the reason, giving pliancy and force to the will ; for a true un- 
derstanding is the issue of these powers, working freely and in 
harmony with the Genius of the soul, conformed to the law of 
Duty. He is to put all the springs of Being in motion. And to 
do this, he must be the personation and exemplar of what he 
would unfold in his charge. Wisdom, Truth, Holiness, must 
have pre-existence in him, or they will not appear in his pupils. 
These influence alone in the concrete. They must be made 
flesh and blood in him, to re-appear to the senses, and subordi- 
nate all to their own force ; and this too, without violating any 
Law, spiritual, intellectual, corporeal — but in obedience to the 
highest Agency, co-working with God. Under the melting force 
of Genius, thus employed, Mind shall become fluid, and he shall 
mould it into Types of Heavenly Beauty. Its agency is that of 
mind leaping to meet mind ; not of force acting on opposing 
force. The Soul is touched by the live coal of his lips. A 
kindling influence goes forth to inspire ; making the mind think ; 
the heart feel ; the pulse throb with his own. He arouses every 
faculty. He awakens the Godlike. He images the fair and full 
features of a Man. And thus doth he drive at will the drowsy 
Brute, that the eternal hath yoked to the chariot of Life, to urge 
man across the Finite ! 

* ^ "TT -iP * tP 

" Our plans of influence, to be successful, must become more 
practical. We must be more faithful. We must deal less in 
abstractions ; depend less on precepts and rules. We must fit 
the soul for duty by the practice of duty. We must watch and 
enforce. Like unsleeping Providence, we must accompany the 
young into the scenes of temptation and trial, and aid them in 
the needful hour. Duty must sally forth an attending Presence 
into the actual world, and organize to itself a living body. It 
must learn the art of uses. It must incorporate itself with Na- 
ture. To its sentiments we must give a Heart. Its Ideas we 
must arm with Hands. For it ever longs to become flesh and 
blood. The Son of God delights to take the Son of Man as a 
co-mate, and to bring flesh and blood even to the very gates of 



28 Spirit-Culture. 

the Spiritual Kingdom. It would make the word Flesh, that it 
shall be seen and handled and felt. 

" The Culture, that is alone worthy of Man, and which un- 
folds his Being into the [mage of its fulness, casts its agencies 
over all things. It uses Nature and Life as means for the Soul's 
growth and renewal. It never deserts its charge, but follows it 
into all the relations of Duty. At the table it seats itself, and 
fills the cup for the Soul ; caters for it ; decides when it has 
enough ; and heeds not the clamor of appetite and desire. It 
lifts the body from the drowsy couch ; opens the eyes upon the 
rising sun ; tempts it forth to breathe the invigorating air ; 
plunges it into the purifying bath ; and thus whets all its func- 
tions for the duties of the coming day. And when toil and 
amusement have brought weariness over it, and the drowsed sen- 
ses claim rest and renewal, it remands it to the restoring couch 
again, to feed it on dreams. Nor does it desert the Soul in 
seasons of labor, of amusement, of study. To the place of oc- 
cupation it attends it, guides the corporeal members with skill 
and faithfulness; prompts the mind to diligence; the heart to 
gentleness and love ; directs to the virtuous associate ; the pure 
place of recreation ; the innocent pastime. It protects the eye 
from the foul image ; the vicious act ; the ear from the vulgar 
or profane word ; the hand from theft ; the tongue from guile ; 
— urges to cheerfulness and purity; to forbearance and meek- 
ness ; to self-subjection and self-sacrifice ; order and decorum ; 
and points, amid all the relations of duty, to the Law of Temp- 
erance, of Genius, of Holiness, which God hath established in 
the depths of the Spirit, and guarded by the unsleeping senti- 
nel of Conscience, from violation and defilement. It renews the 
Soul day by day." — Spiritual Culture, pp. 87-105. 

Tlie mind, which applies to these sentiments the noblest 
interpretation, will see through the New England idiom, 
which is occasionally perhaps rather egoistic to ears educa- 
ted in an older routine ; and recognise throughout the 
working of the same spirit which has animated the good in 
all ages. 

Any one, who has attended a public meeting, and has 
afterwards read a printed report of it in the newspapers, 
will have experienced the insufficiency of any recital in 
imparting a semblance of the life and creative energy in 
the original. How then shall free, though orderly conver- 
sations be adequately reported ? Conversations moreover 
with children full of animated thoughts, and upon the 
deepest subjects within their power. Yet some of these 
spirit-communings are so happy, and so happily recorded, 



Conversation on Prayer. 29 

that we cannot forbear quoting one of them, that parents 
and teachers may see the entire possibility of a|)( flying 
these high principles of moral culture to actual practice. 

CONVERSATION XXXIII. 

SPIRITUAL WORSHIP. 
PRAYER AND PRAISE. 



Conversation of Jesus with tlie Samaritan Woman, from tlie Sacred Text, — Immortality. 

— Emblem of Holiness. —Idolatry. — Spiritual Worship. — Sincerity. — Idea of Prayer. 

— Actual Prayer. — Responsive Prayer. — Ritual of Worship. — Prayer of Faith. — For- 
giveness. — Dramatic Prayer. — Devotion to the Holy. — Idea of Clniversal Adoration 
and Praise. — Reverence of the Godlike in Conscience — Reverence of Humanity. — 

Reverence of the Invisible — Admiration of ^aturc — Spiritual Awe Supremacy of 

Spirit over Nature. — Worldliness. — Release from the Flesh. — Instinct of Adoration in 
Infancy. — Subject. 

Mr. Alcott read the remainder of the 

CONVERSATION OF JESUS WITH THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA. 

.John iv. 16- 30. 

. 16. Jesus saith unto her, Go, call thy husband and come hither. 

Worship. jy_ 'J'he woman answered and said, 1 have no husband. Jesus said unto her, 
Thou hast well said, I have no husband : 

18 For thou hast had five husbands : and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband ; in 
that saidst thou truly. 

19 The woman saith unto him. Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet. 

20 Our fathers worshipped in this mountain ; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place 
whore men ought to worship. 

21 Jesus saith unto her. Woman, believe me, the hour cometh when ye shall neither in 
this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father. 

22 Ye worship ye know not what: we know what we woiship: for salvation is of the 
Jews. 

23 But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father 
in spirit and in truth : for the Father seeketh such to worship him. 

24 God is a Spirit : and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth. 

25 The woman saith unto 'hin), 1 know that Messias cometh, which is called Christ: 
when he is come, he will tell us all things. 

26 Jesus saitli unto her, 1 that speak unto thee am ke. 

27 And upon this came his disciples, and marvelled that he talked with the woman: yet 
no man said, What seekest thou ? or. Why talkest thou with her .'' 

28 The woman then left her waterpot, and went her way into the city, and saith to the 
men, 

29 Come, see a man, which told me all things that ever I did : is not this the Christ .'' 

30 Then they went out of the city, and came unto him. 

(Before he had time to ask the tisual question.) 

Samuel T. (spoJce) I was most interested in this 
mmorta.ty yg^gg . << jjg j^j^j^j driuks of this water shall thirst 
again, but he that drinks of the water that I shall give him, 
shall never thirst." He means by this, that those who heard 
what he taught, and did it, should live always, should never die, 
their spirits should never die 

Mr. Alcott. Can spirit die ? 

Samuel T. For a spirit to die is to leave off being good. 



30 Spirit- Culture. 

EmWemof Edward J. I wRs interested in the words, " For 
Holiness. ^j^g water I shall give him will be in him a well of 

water." I think it means, that when people are good 
and getting better, it is like water springing up always. They 
have more and more goodness. 

Samuel R. Water is an emblem of Holiness. 

Mr. Alcott. Water means Spirit pure and unspoiled. 

Edward J. It is holy spirit. 

Ellen. I was most interested in these words, " Ye 
worship ye know not what." The Samaritans wor- 
shipped idols, and there was no meaning to that. 

Mr. Alcott. What do you mean by their worshipping 
idols ? 

Ellen. They cared about things more than God. 

Mr. Alcott. What kind of false worship do you think 
Jesus was thinking about, when he said, " Woman, the hour is 
coming and now is, when neither in this mountain — " ? 

Ellen. Oh ! She thought the place of worship was more 
important than the worship itself. 

Mr. Alcott. Well ! how did Jesus answer that thought? 

Ellen. He told her what she ought to worship, which was 
more important than where. 

Mr. Alcott. Some of you perhaps have made this mistake, 
and thought that we only worshipped God in churches and on 
Sundays. How is it — who has thought so ? 

{Several held up hands, stniling.) 
Who knew that we could worship God any where ? 
{Others held up hands.) 

Spiritual What other worship is there beside that in the 

T^orship. Church ? 

Edward J. The worship in our hearts. 

Mr. Alcott. How is that carried on ? 

Edward J. By being good. 

Nathan. We worship God by growing better. 

Augustine. We worship God when we repent of doing 
wrong. 

JosiAH. I was most interested in this verse, " God 
is a Spirit, and they that worship him must worship him 
in spirit and in truth." It means that to feel our prayers is 
more important than to say the words. 

Lemuel. And when we pray and pray sincerely. 

Mr. Alcott. What is praying sincerely? 

Lemuel. Praying the truth. 

Mr. Alcott. What is to be done in praying the truth? 
When you think of prayer, do you think of a position of the 
body — of words ? 



Pray 67'. 31 

Lemuel. (Earnestly.) I think of something else, but I 
cannot express it. 

Mr. Alcott. Josiah is holding up his hand ; can he ex- 
press it 1 

Josiah (burst out,) To pray, Mr. Alcott, is to be 

Idea of Prayer. , '',, '/ ■ ■ \ i , , , „ 

good, really ; you know it is better to be bad before 
people, and to be good to God alone, because then we are good 
for goodness' sake, and not to be seen, and not for people's 
sake. Well, so it is with prayer. There must be nothing out- 
ward about prayer ; but we must have some words, sometimes ; 
sometimes we need not. If we don't feel the prayer, it is worse 
than never to say a word of prayer. It is wrong not to pray, 
but it is more wrong to speak prayer and not pray. We had 
better do nothing about it, Mr. Alcott ! we must say words in a 
prayer, and we must feel the words we say, and we must do 
what belongs to the words. 

Mr. Alcott. Oh ! there must be doingr, must 

Actual Prayer. , „ ° 

there ? 

Josiah. Oh! yes, Mr. Alcott! doing is the most important 
part. We must ask God for help, and at the same time try to 
do the thing we are to be helped about. If a boy should be 
good all day, and have no temptation, it would not be very 
much; there would be no improvement; but if he had tempta- 
tion, he could pray and feel the prayer, and try to overcome it, 
and would overcome it; and then there would be a real prayer 
and a real improvement. That would be something. Tempta- 
tion is always necessary to a real prayer, I think. I don't be- 
lieve there is ever any real prayer before there is a temptation ; 
because we may think and feel and say our prayer; but there 
cannot be any doing, without there is something to be done. 

Mr. Alcott. Well, Josiah, that will do now. Shall some 
one else speak 1 

Josiah. Oh, Mr. Alcott, I have not half done. 

Responsive Edward J. Mr. Alcott, what is the use of respond- 

Prayer. '^^^ Jj^ church ? 

Mr. Alcott. Cannot you tell ? 

Edward J. No ; I never knew 

Josiah. Oh ! Mr. Alcott ! 

Mr. Alcott. Well, Josiah, do you know ? 

Josiah. Why, Edward ! is it not just like a mother's telling 
her child the words ? The child wants to pray ; it don't know 
how to express its real thoughts, as we often say to Mr. Alcott 
here ; and the mother says words, and the child repeats after 
her the words. 

Edward J. Yes ; but I don't see what good it does. 

Josiah. What ! if the mother says the words, and the child 
repeats them and feels them — really wants the things that are 
prayed for — can't you see that it does some good ? 



32 Spirit- Culture. 

Edward J. It teaclies the word-prayer — it is not the real 
prayer. 

JosiAH. Yet it must be the real prayer, and the real prayer 
must have some words. 

But, Mr. Alcott, I think it would be a great deal 
w'otlldp. better, if, at church, every body prayed for them- 

selves. I don't see why one person should pray for 
all the rest. Why could not the minister pray for himself, and 
the people pray for themselves ; and why should not all commu- 
nicate their thoughts? Why should only one speak? Why 
should not all be preachers ? Every body could say something ; at 
least, every body could say their own prayers, for they know 
what they want. Every person knows the temptations they have, 
and people are tempted to do different things. Mr. Alcott ! I 
think Sunday ought to come oftener. 

Mr. Alcott. Our hearts can make all time Sunday. 

JosiAH. Why then nothing could be done ! There must be 
week-days, I know — some week-days ; I said, Sunday oftener. 

Mr. Alcott. But you wanted the prayers to be doing 
prayers. 

Prayer of Faith. ^^'^ ^°'"^ ^^ ^'^^ ^^^^ "^^y ^^'^ "^6' ^^"' J*^" COUld 

pray doing prayers. 

George K. Place is of no consequence. I think prayer is 
in our hearts. Christian prayed in the cave of Giant Despair. 
We can pray any where, because we can have faith any where. 

Mr. Alcott. Faith, then, is necessary? 

George K. Yes; for it is faith that makes the prayer. 

Mr. Alcott. Suppose an instance of prayer in yourself. 

George K. 1 can pray going to bed or getting up. 

Mr. Alcott. You are thinking of time, — place, — words. 

George K. And feelings and thoughts. 

Mr. Alcott. And action ? 

George K. Yes ; action comes after. 

John B. When we have been doing wrong and are sorry, we 
pray to God to take away the evil. 

Mr. Alcott. What evil, the punishment ? 
For-iveness Jo"N B. No ; wc waut the forgivcncss. 

Mr. Alcott. What is for-give-ness, is it any thing 
given ? 

Lemuel. Goodness, Holiness. 

John B. And the evil is taken away. 

Mr. Alcott. Is there any action in all this? 

John B. Why yes I there is thought and feeling. 

Mr. Alcott. But it takes the body also to act ; what do the 
hands do ? 

John B. There is no prayer in the hands ! 



Prayer. 33 

Mr. Alcott. You have taken something that belongs to an- 
other ; you pray to be forgiven ; you wish not to do so again ; 
you are sorry. Is there, any thing to do ? 

John B. If you injure any body, and can repair it, you 
must, and you will, if you have prayed sincerely ; but that is not 
the prayer. 

Mr. Alcott. Would the prayer be complete without it 1 

John B. No. 

Andrew. Prayer is in the Spirit. 

Mr. Alcott. Does the Body help the Spirit ? 

Andrew. It don't help the prayer. 

Mr. Alcott. Don't the lips move ? 
Dianm.cPr.yer. ^j^^j^^,^^, ButhavB thc Hps any thlug to do with 

the prayer ? 

Mr. Alcott. Yes ; they may. The whole nature may act 
together ; the body pray , and I want you to tell an instance of 
a prayer in which are thoughts, feelings, action ; which involves 
the whole nature, body and all. There may be prayer in the 
palms of our hands. 

Andrew. Why, if I had hurt any body, and was sorry and 
prayed to be forgiven, I suppose I should look round for some 
medicine and try to make it well. 

{Mr. Alcott here spoke of the connexion of the mind with the 
body, in order to make his meaning clearer.) 

Samuel R. If I had a bad habit and should ask God for help 
to break it; and then should try so as really to break it — that 
would be a prayer. 

Charles. Suppose I saw a poor beggar-boy hurt, or sick, 
and all bleeding ; and I had very nice clothes, and was afraid to 
soil them, or from any such cause should pass him by, and bye 
and bye I should look back and see another boy helping him, 
and should be really sorry and pray to be forgiven — that would 
be a real prayer ; but if I had done the kindness at the time of 
it, that would have been a deeper prayer. 

Augustine. When any body has done wrong, and does not 
repent for a good while, but at last repents and prays to be for- 
given, it may be too late to do any thing about it ; yet that might 
be a real prayer. 

Mr. Alcott. Imagine a real doing prayer in your life. 

Lucia. Suppose, as I was going home from school, some 
friend of mine should get angry with me, and throw a stone at 
me ; I could pray not to be tempted to do the same, to throw a 
stone at her, and would not. 

Mr. Alcott. And would the not doing any thing in that 
case be a prayer and an action ? Keeping your body still would 
be the body's part of it. 

Lucia. Yes. 

Ellen. I heard a woman say, once, that she could pray best 
5 



34 Spint- Culture. 

when she was at work ; that when she was scouring floor she 
would ask God to cleanse her mind. 

DeToUonto ^R. Alcott. I will uow varj' my question. Is there 
the Holy. gj^y prayer in Patience ? 

All. a great deal. 

Mr. Alcott. In Impatience ? 

All. No ; not any. 

Mr. Alcott. In Doubt ? 

George K. No; but in Faith. 

Mr. Alcott. In Laziness ? 

Ali. (but Josi oh.) No; no kind of prayer. 

JusL\H. I should think that Laziness was the prayer of the 
body, Mr. Alcott. 

Mr. Alcott. Yes ; it seems so. The body tries to be still 
more body ; it tries to get down into the clay ; it tries to sink ; 
but the spirit is always trying to lift it up and make it do some- 
thing. 

Edward J. Lazy people sometimes have passions that make 
them act. 

Mr. Alcott. Yes ; they act downwards. 

Is there any prayer in disobedience ? 

All. No. 

Mr. Alcott. Is there any in submission ? 

In forbearing when injured ? 

In suffering for a good object? 

In self-sacrifice ? 

All. (Eagerly to each question.) Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. 

(Mr. Alcott here made some very interesting remarls on loving 
God with all our heart, soul, mind, ^-f., and the Idea of Devo- 
tion it expressed. Josiah wanted to speak constantly, but Mr. 
Alcott checked him, that the others 7night have opportunity, though 
the latter wished to yield to Josiah.) 

JosL\H (burst out,) Mr. Alcott ! you know Mrs. 
sal Aioniiion Barbauld savs in her hvmns, Every thin^ is prayer ; 

and Praise. -•- "., " "" I'l-i 

every action is prayer ; all mature prays ; the bird 
pravs in sinwincr ; the tree prays in growing ; men pray ; men 
can pray more; we feel; we have more — more than nature; 
we can know and do right ; Conscience prays ; all our powers 
pray ; action pravs. Once we said here, that there was a 
"Christ in the bottom of our Spirits" when we try to be good ; 
then we pray in Christ ; and that is the whole. * 

Mr. Alcott. Yes, Josiah, that is the whole. That is Uni- 
versal Prayer — the adoration of the Universe to its Author ! 



* This improvisation is preserved in its words. Josiah, it may be 
named, was under sei"en years of age, and the other children were chiefly 
between the ages of six and twelve years. 



Conscience. 35 

Charles. I was most interested in this verse — 
the Godlike in " The dav is cominor and now is, when men shall 

Conscience . 

worship the Father," &.c. I think that this means 
that people are about to learn what to worship, and where. 

Mr. Alcott. Have you learned this to-day ? 

Charles. Yes ; I have learnt some new things, I believe. 

Mr. Alcott. What are you to worship 1 

Charles. Goodness. 

Mr. Alcott. Where is it ? 

Charles. Within. 

Mr. Alcott. Within what ? 

Charles. Conscience, or God. 

Mr. Alcott. Are you to worship Conscience ? 

Charles. Yes. 

Mr. Alcott. Is it any where but in yourself? 

Charles. Yes ; it is in Nature. 

Mr. Alcott. Is it in other people ? 
Reverence of Charles. Yes ; there is more or less of it in other 
Humaniu. people, uuless they have taken it out. 

Mr. Alcott. Can it be entirely taken out? 

Charles. Goodness always lingers in Conscience. 

Mr. Alcott. Is Conscience any where but in Human 
Nature ? 

Charles. It is in the Supernatural. 
ibelnlltiJ. Mr. Alcott. You said at first that there was 
something in outward Nature, which we should wor- 
ship. 

Charles. No ; I don't think we should worship any thing 
but the Invisible. 

Mr. Alcott. What is the Im-isible ? 

Charles. It is the Supernatural. 

John B. It is the Inward — the Spiritual. 

But I don't see why we should not worship the sun a little as 
well — 

Mr. Alcott. As well as the Sunmaker ? But there 
of'Nature" ^rc suH-worshippers. 

John B. Yes ; a little ; for the sun gives us light 
and heat. 

Mr. Alcott. What is the difference between your feeling 
when you think of the sun, or the ocean, (he described some 
grand scenes,) and when you think of Conscience acting in such 
cases as — (he ffnve some sinking instances of morcd poiver.) Is 
there not a difference ? 

(They raised their hands.) 
What is the name of the feeling with which you look at 
Nature? 

Skveral. Admiration. 



36 Spirit- Culture. 

Mn. Alcott. But when Conscience governs our weak body, 
is it not a Supernatural Force 1 Do you not feel the awe of the 
inferior before a superior nature ? And is not that worship ? 
The sun cannot produce it. 
s irituaiAwe JosiAH. Spirit worships Spirit. Clay worships 

Clay. 
si.premacvof Mr. Alcott. Wait a momcnt, Josiah. I wish to 
iF^nieJ" talk with the others ; let me ask them this question; 
— Do you feel that Conscience is stronger than the 
mountain, deeper and more powerful than the ocean ? Can you 
say to yourself, I can remove this mountain ? 

JosiAH {burst aM/",) Yes, Mr. Alcott ! I do not mean that 
with my body I can lift up a mountain — with my hand; but I 
can feel ; and I know that my Conscience is greater than the 
mountain, for it can feel and do ; and the mountain cannot. 
There is the mountain, there ! It was made and that is all. 
But my Conscience can grow. It is the same kind of Spirit as 
made the mountain be, in the first place. I do not know what 
it may be and do. The Body is a mountain, and the Spirit 
says, be moved, and it is moved into another place. 
^ ,^,. Mr. Alcott, we think too much about Clay. We 

Worldliness. i i i i • i t 

should thuik of Spirit. I think we should love Spirit, 
not Clay. I should think a mother now would love her baby's 
Spirit; and suppose it should die, that is only the Spirit burst- 
ing away out of the Body. It is alive; it is perfectly happy; 
I really do not know why people mourn when their friends die. 
I should think it would he matter of rejoicing. For instance, 
now, if we should wo out into the street and find a box, 
^o^ease rom ^^^ ^j^ dusty box, and should put into it some very fine 
pearls, and bye and bye the box should grow old and 
break, why, we should not even think about the box ; but if the 
pearls were safe, we should think of them and nothing else. So 
it is with the Soul and Body. I cannot see why people mourn 
for bodies. 

Mr. Alcott. Yes, Josiah ; that is all true, and we are glad 
to hear it. Shall some one else now speak beside you ? 

Josiah. Oh, Mr. Alcott ! then I will stay in the recess and 
talk. 

Instinct of ^^' Alcott. When a little infant opens its eyes 
fni'Iac '"'' '" upon this world, and sees things out of itself, and has 
the feeling of admiration, is there in that feeling the 
beginning f Avorship ? 

JosiAii. No, Mr. Alcott ; a little baby does not worship. It 
opens its eyes on the outward world, and sees things, and per- 
haps wonders what they are ; but it don't know any thing about 
them or itself It don't know the uses of any thing ; there is 
no worship in it. 



Worship. 37 

Mr. Alcott. But in this feeling of wonder and admiration 
which it has, is there not the beginning of worship that will at 
last find its object 1 

JosiAU. No; there is not even the beginning of worship. 
It must have some temptation, I think, before it can know the 
thing to worship. 

Mr. Alcott. But is there not a feeling that comes up from 
within, to answer to the things that come to the eyes and ears ? 

JosiAH. But feeling is not worship, Mr. Alcott. 

Mr. Alcott. Can there be worship without feeling ? 

JosiAH. No; but there can be feeling without worship. For 
instance, if I prick my hand with a pin, I feel, to be sure, but 
1 do not worship. 

Mr. Alcott. That is bodily feeling. But what I mean is, 
that the little infant finds its power to worship in the feeling 
which is first only admiration of what is without. 

JosiAH. No, no ; I know what surprise is, and I know what 
admiration is ; and perhaps the little creature feels that. But she 
does not know enough to know that she has Conscience, or that 
there is temptation. My little sister feels, and she knows some 
things ; but she does not worship.* 

Mr. Alcott. Now I wish you all to think. What have 

Slllijecl. , ,, . 1 rk 

we been talknig about to-day .' 
Charles. Spiritual Worship. 

Mr. Alcott. And what have we concluded it to be? 
Charles. The Worship of Spirit in Conscience. 

One of the most frequent objections raised against the 
principle of an interior development is, that the answers 
are not really thosfe of the children, but of the teacher. 
And in proof of this, parents have adduced the fact, that 
they never could succeed in eliciting such expressions from 
their own children, as these printed conversations report. 
The latter is quite true ; but it does not prove the former 
assumption. A truly spiritual mind is requisite to the just- 
ly putting a spiritual question ; and this is not attained by 
imitation, nor by education wholly, but by genius chiefly, 
by generation, by the Spirit's presence. In the few leisure 
moments of a mercantile man, there can be none of that 
large and deep preparation which preceded these remarka- 

* Here J was obliged to pause, as I was altogether fatigued with keep- 
ing my pen in long and uncommonly constant requisition. I was ena- 
bled to preserve the words belter than usual, because Josiah had so much 
of the conversation, whose enunciation is slow, and whose fine choice of 
language and steadiness of mind, makes him easy to follow and remem- 
ber. — Recorder. 



38 Spirit-Culture. 

ble results, of which we readily concede such a parent may 
rationally doubt. The anxieties of domestic life, whether 
rich or poor, also preclude the mother from coming into 
that serene and high relationship to her little ones, without 
which no approach to spirit-culture can be eftected. Skep- 
ticism is unavoidable until the doubter is in a position to 
try the experiment, and such position is unattainable while 
he doubts. 

But supposing it were a fact, that the responses are not 
spontaneous but mere echoes of the teacher's mind, it is 
not a small achievement to have discovered a mode of tui- 
tion which, while it is highly agreeable to the student, suc- 
ceeds so well in making him acquainted with the deepest 
facts of all existence. Could it not, then, still more easily 
open to him the superficial facts, to attain which years and 
years of dull laborious college life are painfully occupied ? 
If the laws in moral consciousness can there be presented 
to children ; assuredly the reported facts in history and 
language should not be suffered to be any longer a griev- 
ous burden to our young men. 

The Record we estimate as a very valuable book for 
teachers, and therefore find it difficult to make any extract 
which shall do justice to the work. Nor is it needful in 
this case, as the book is within the reach of all. The tal- 
ented Recorder informs us that 

" This book makes no high pretensions. It is an address to 
parents, who are often heard to express their want of such prin- 
ciples, and such a plan, as it is even in the author's power to 
afford. It will perhaps he more useful than if it were a more 
elaborate performance; for many will take up the record of an 
actual school, and endeavor to understand its principles and 
plans, who would shrink from undertaking to master a work, 
professing to exhaust a subject, which has i^s roots and its is- 
sues in eternity ; as this great subject of education certainly 
has." — Preface to Record of a School, \st Edition. 

A transcript of one of the quarterly cards will, however, 
help to some idea of the comprehensive extent of the tui- 
tion, and it ofiers a field worthy the diligent study of all 
teachers. 



Programme. 



39 



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40 Spii'it- Culture. 

We cannot avoid the conclusion, that Boston withheld 
her patronage from Mr. Alcott by reason of lier failure to 
inquire into the merits of tlie case, and not because she 
had duly and fully investigated and calmly judged. None 
but a willing eye can appreciate. A love-insight in the ob- 
server is needful in order to understand the labors and 
motives of a love-inspired man. Shakspere is to be judg- 
ed by the Shakspere standard, not by Homer's works. 
Milton must be studied in the Miltonic idea. This aesthet- 
ic law applies to the criticism of actual works. Let spirit- 
culture be viewed from the spirit-ground, and then the 
spectator may freely speak. On that ground we affirm, 
Boston should not have permitted such a son to have want- 
ed her home-protection and support for one moment. 
Should the opportunity again be atibrded, we hope it will 
be even in a broader and deeper manner, when the idea 
being presented in great integrity will be better understood 
and more favorably received. 






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